Mac adopts his niece
by Circumscribed-calories
Summary: Mac Taylor soon adopts his niece after she leaves an Eating Disorder clinic. The entire team is needed to keep her safe from, not only herself, but others who are after her. Each chapter is like a new story for it. TRIGGER WARNING
1. Background Story

Please read: this is an ongoing story. The main character is from where I'm from cuz I couldn't resist ^-^ xD lol. You know the drill I do not own any of the characters on the actual CSI:NY show. Hope you enjoy! (PS this is written from Flytes pov(you'll understand if u continue reading) this is just the background story. You can jump forward, but something's about Flyte may be confusing.

My life. What was my life? I was bounced around from place to place, program to program. There was never a place for me, not until now at least. My name is Flyte Rose, I'm from Atlanta, but was raised in Miami. I have finally left what I hope to be my last place. My dad can't put up with me apparently, and I have a restraining order against my mum, meaning my only other option outside foster care was to live with my Uncle, Mac Taylor. His wife, my dad's sister, died on 9/11. He lives in New York City. I feel bad for coming upon him like this. I'm fucked up in the head; more than one person should be. Eating disordered, depressed, anxious. Slut. Freak. Cutter. Annoying. That's what I know I am, and I hate having to put that burden upon Mac.


	2. Meeting EveryoneMoving In

The car ride to Mac's apartment was silent. Mac and I, we never really had a deep relationship. Especially after Claire died, my dad and I only saw him during Thanksgiving or Christmas. "Hey Flyte. I guess we should talk about how things are going to work," said Mac. I was silent. I felt bad giving Mac the silent treatment, but I just felt so awful. "Tonight we're going to go out to Dinner with my team so you can meet them. They're all good people. The clinic said we need to keep up with your weight and meal plan. Someone on the team will weigh you after school. You can choose who when we meet them all tonight, they do have to be either female, or Dr Sheldon Hawkes." He said softly. His voice was sincere, you could here his worry.  
"On Monday we're going to get you enrolled at South Brooklyn High. They have a special program called IB that I want you to look at later this weekend. Do you have everything you need?"  
"No," I whispered softly.  
"What do you need? I'm taking the weekend off to help get you settled."  
"I need hygiene stuff, and school stuff, but it's fine we don't need to spend your money,"  
"Flyte" he said taking his eyes off the road for a split second. "We're getting you what you need. You'll do great, if you ever need anything you can tell me. I know your father is having someone drive up all your stuff, including your furniture. But I don't have a spare bed so you can either sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch, or you can sleep on the couch. It's a pull out, queen size I think."  
"I can sleep on the couch," I said.  
"Okay. Just a couple rules, nothing too bad. Your curfew for now is 8, unless there is something going on then we can talk about it. Please try to stick to the meal plan. I know it's hard, but try. After school you need to come to the lab, so we can do your weight and such. I want you to carry some pepper spray with you, just a precaution. I think that's it, oh, please keep your room tidy. And no boys over without my knowledge." He said pulling in to his apartment complex. That's easy enough I suppose.  
We got out of the car, and Mac pulled my suite case and duffle bag, while I had my backpack and purse. We took the elevator to his apartment. His apartment building was nice, not ghetto, not rich, pretty average. Macs apartment was very organised. But it was him. There were odd objects that I suppose were art, a nice pull out couch, a flat screen tv. There were forensic magazines on his coffee table, and his book shelf was filled. His kitchen was kept spotless, everything perfect. He took me to my room and set my bags down.  
"We're going to go to dinner in a few, you might want to put on some jeans." He said. I nodded looking at my reflection in the mirror, which was also a closet door. My hair was black, and my side bangs blue, along with underneath. My skin was pale. I was wearing a black tank top and sweatpants. I sighed. I was short, 5'1" but I was fat. My stomach poked out through my shirt and my legs wobbled with my pants. My collarbones were barely visible. Down both my arms there were scars on each and every side, going in every direction. Most of them bulged into purple skin, some were scarred words like 'fat' or 'worthless'. They trailed everywhere from my wrist to my elbow to my shoulder, on the top of my arm, bottom, and sides. I placed my finger over a scar and rubbed it. I could feel it, and feeling that was a relief.  
I searched through my bag until I finally settled on a pair of black jeans, and a band t shirt. But what do I do about my arms? I can't let macs employees see them. The hospital took away all jackets- if we were cold, we had to ask for one. I sighed and checked my phone. 5:52. I left my new room and walked into the kitchen where Mac was standing, writing something down.  
"Hey,"he said looking up. I smiled at him. "I forgot how quiet you are. As a kid, I remember you talked constantly reciting everything. Books, things you heard on TV, you were non stop, full of information at such a young age. I guess you were always an introvert at heart though."  
I smiles again. He slid a piece of paper in front of me. "This is just common stuff you need to know. I have everyone on my teams cell phone number there, along with my own. I have our address, the labs address, and how you can get there after school. We'll take the subway on Monday so you get a feel for it. The alarm code, wifi password, and your key." He said smiling  
"Thanks Mac," I said. "Do you have a sweater?" I asked.  
"It's 80 degrees out what do you need a swea... Oh." He put his hands on my shoulders. "Listen, I promise no one is going to judge you. We all just want to eat dinner and have a good time. I don't have one in your size, but I can get you one" he said  
"It's fine," I said trying to not be a burden. "Where are we eating?" I asked smiling. "It's this kind of bar place that we all make a tradition to go to. It's called Sulivans, sort of like roadhouse." I nodded.  
"Well I guess we better get going"

I took a seat next to Mac at a big booth in the corner of the restaurant. It looked like everyone was there. There were 7 numbers on the list, not including Mac, and there were 7 people here not including Mac. I looked down in my lap, trying to avoid any attention that might land on me. "So Flyte, this here is the crime labs finest," said Mac smiling. People started introducing themselves. Don Flack,who was sitting next to me, Danny Messer, Lindsay Messer, Sid Hammerback, Sheldon Hawkes, Adam Ross, and Jo Dannvile. They attacked me with questions, "how old are you?""16"  
"Where are you from?" "Miami and Atlanta"  
"What's your grade?" "Junior"  
"Oh! Are you thinking about college?" "Yes"  
That kind of thing, but over all, they were kind people. I think we all will get along. Soon the waitress came and took our order. This was Panic time. What had the least amount of calories? What is that divided by 2? Divided by 2 again? I stared at the menu and I didn't see words, all I saw were numbers. 1000 kcal $8.00 2400 kcal $7.00  
I was the last to order. Everyone was staring at me. Of course Mac alerted them about my problems, infact, I don't blame him. He's just trying to help, but I don't want help- I want to be thin. "Can I have diet coke, with a salad" I whispered. "Dressing on the side." Mac looked at me. "And some fries," he added. I closed my eyes. 1000 kcal atleast. I opened my eyes and everyone was in there own conversations about sports, the latest case, the news, etc. I sat quietly, staring at the glass of water in front of me.  
"So Flyte," began Adam. I looked up. "Do you play any video games?" He asked. I nodded. "What kind?"  
"World of Warcraft, Second Life, GTA, Leagues of Legends. I like old school though too." I said softly. Adam smiled looking at Mac, "the next time you go out of town, I've got dibs on her coming over to my place." Everyone laughed. I chuckled a tad. It felt nice to feel wanted, important. And just in time to ruin it, our food came. A plate of lettuce and other vegetables were dropped infront of me, along with a basket of fries. I took a sip of my diet coke and picked up my knife and fork. I cut my salad, into small pieces. Everyone was busy with their own food, no one noticed me pretending to eat. "Hey Flyte, this steak is to die for, try some" said Flack waving a piece of meat infront of me. "I'm a vegetarian," I said. "No way," said Danny. "Why would you torture yourself with that kind of thing?" He asked. I looked at Mac and he laughed with me at Danny's comment. Atleast Mac understood. But that's not why I don't eat meat. "I think hurting animals is wrong."  
Jo nodded, "I was vegetarian for a while."  
"How long? 2 hours?" Asked Hawkes laughing. "No," she responded in her southern accent. "I lasted about a day."  
"Then what?" Asked Flack.  
"I passed a KFC." Everyone laughed together, even me. I was happy that I was getting to know the team, I think we'll do well together.

*again more introductory, but the next chapter we'll get into some real stuff ^_^ r&r please. Sorry for small errors- I'm writing this on my phone I haven't a computer.*


	3. First Weigh In

My first day of school was finally over. South Brooklyn high wasn't on the top of my "places I want to go after treatment" list. But high school is high school. Mac and I are doing well. My stuff came. But right now I was on the last train to the crime lab. I had chosen Dr Hawkes to do my weigh in. I'm kind of excited to go to the lab. Forensics is always interesting. The train came to a halt and I walked up the escalator to the side walk. The train wasn't too far from the lab. Mac gave me a permanent visitors pass to the crime lab along with the elevator code.  
I walked into the lobby of the building the lab was in, and was immediately stopped by a uniformed police officer. "Hi." I said.  
"Where do you think you're going? I haven't seen you here before." He said his voice low. He was a tall man, more on the heavier side. He was bending down to talk to me as if I were a child.  
"The Crime lab," I whispered intimidated by him.  
"Oh really?"  
I showed him my visitors pass. The man smirked and let me by. That was rather unnecessary.  
I entered the elevator, which I found torturous, and leaned in the corner. After a few minutes I got off at floor 25, and paused, taking everything in. There were state of the art computers and supplies. Pictures of DNA spun on a monitor while Adam was working with some chemicals. I was amazed. I could definitely get use to this.  
Macs office was all clear, his door, his walls, you could see right in. But he wasn't there. I dug my hands into my pockets and knocked on the window where Adam was. I didn't want to break any rules by going in. He waved for me to come into the lab. I did.  
"Hey Flyte, your here for Hawkes right?" I nodded.  
"He's down in autopsy. I guess you could head on down, just don't go into the morgue."  
I nodded, "where's Mac?"  
"Boss is out I don't know what he's doing. I think he's meeting with someone. Hey on WOW what's your screen name?"  
I smiled. "You've heard of me." I walked out with him still wondering.  
Autopsy smelled... Interesting I suppose; but what do you expect from a bunch of mutilated dead bodies?  
Hawkes saw me through the window. He finished up sealing evidence with Sid, and gave it to a random lab tech. He walked out to me.  
"Hey Flyte! How was the first day?"  
I shrugged, "okay I guess."  
He nodded. "High school." We walked down some corridors and an elevator to what I assumed was the precinct. Phones were going off while uniformed officers handcuffed criminals and people pleaded their innocence. I saw Flack at his desk, but he was talking on the phone. Hawkes and I entered a room that said "interrogation." He closed the blinds. I looked at the window. "Can't people see in?" I asked.  
"I told them this room was off limits, Flacks got it covered." I nodded.  
On the metal table there was a scale, and a notebook. Hawkes opened the notebook and put the date. Then he put the scale on the floor. "Alright, I need you to take off your everything, including your shoes except for your bra and underwear. Sorry I know this must be uncomfortable for you." It was, or it should have been, but for some reason I trusted Hawkes. I took off my clothes and placed them neatly on the table. "You don't have to stand on it backwards if you don't want to. It would be kind of pointless, you could weigh yourself somewhere else," he said smiling. I didnt respond, and I hadn't meant to be rude by it; it's just weighing time is both good and bad. Good because I need to know, bad because if Its high I will freak out. But the number on the scale is never good enough. I stepped on the scale looking straight in case me looking down might make it fluctuate. When I saw Hawkes writing it down I looked. 104.2 disgusting unnecessary pounds. The fat on my body could feed every starving child in the world, and I'd still be fat. I stepped off the scale holding back any emotion. Fuck recovery. Hawkes stood up and examined my body. He looked at my arms, but none of those were fresh. "When did you do the ones on your thighs?" He asked. "At the hospital, I just got the stitches removed." He nodded. My thighs were the same as my arms to the knee. My stomach wasn't as bad. He walked around to my back. I couldn't see his expression, but I knew exactly what it was. It's the same expression everyone wears when they see my back. "What happened?" He asked trailing his finger against a junction of scars.  
"My mum wasn't the most stable person." He walked around front and nodded at either my clothes or for me to continue talking. I did both. "She was a druggie and prostitute. That's how she made her living. When I was a kid, she would always have me sell "candy" on the street. I never understood why so many people wanted this candy when it was so much cheaper at the gas station. She would get really drunk, and there are two types of her when she's drunk. She's mean drunk or horny drunk. But those scars aren't from being drunk, they're from her when she was sober, or well, more sober then at night.  
"She always had men over, and would give me drugs so I couldn't remember anything, but I did. If I asked she'd beat me. If I did anything I got the belt. But this belt hurt more then the average beating, and left me bleeding for hours. But shower time was worse if you catch my drift"  
"Where is she now?" Asked Hawkes engrossed in what I was saying.  
"Miami-Dade cemetery. She OD'd when I was 11."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't be. It's not a big deal. She's gone, she won't be after me."  
Hawkes nodded looking at the window. I didn't mean to make this so depressing, or all about me. How selfish of me. Selfish selfish selfish. I looked at the notebook and saw he recorded my weight almost as neatly as I did.  
"What was your lowest weight?" He asked.  
"72 pounds when I was 14"  
Again, making things about me. I'm not allowed to speak for the rest of the day. Not one word to anyone. And if I do have to speak its please and thank you or only about the other person. I hate being selfish- it makes me like my mum.


	4. Meeting Reed(Macs Step son)

I sat in the break room of the New York crime lab. I was working on IB Chemistry with my music playing. I had to write a study guide on chapter 4, bonding. My teacher, Ms Hall, I think she's trying to work us to death. I sighed and laid my head in my hands; I just wanted to sleep.  
Caffeine, I decided pulling a dollar out of my purse. I walked out of the break room to the vending machines. Someone I didn't recognise was standing at the snack machine next to the soda machine. He was younger, in his mid twenties. He had curly hair, pale skin, and was wearing a leather jacket. He wasn't anyone that worked here.  
"Sorry, I'll just be a sec," he said pushing in a number for his snack.  
"No it's fine I'm getting a soda."  
"Aren't you a bit young to be working here?" He asked.  
"No.. I don't work here..."  
"Oh... Me neither. I'm Reed, Reed Garret."  
"I'm Flyte. What are you doing here then?" I asked retrieving my Diet Coke.  
"I'm looking for Detective Mac Taylor, we have an annual coffee break once month." He said.  
"Really? Why?" I asked.  
"He's my step dad. I found him when I was looking for my birth mum, who I found out died in 9/11. Since I found Mac we've kept in contact."  
"I didn't know he had a step son."  
"Well, he didn't either. My mum, Claire, put me up for adoption before they met."  
I nodded. "He never told me."  
"Enough about me," he said smiling. "What are you doing here?" He asked opening his chips.  
"I'm uhh. Macs niece. He sort of adopted me a few months ago. Claire, she was my dad's sister."  
"He never told me. We haven't talked in a while but wow, so you're like my cousin." He said. I nodded.  
"Why did he adopt you?"  
"After I uh, left the hospital I guess my dad didn't want me anymore. So Mac took me in. Wow, I thought he would have told me."  
Reed smiled. "Well I guess we both best find Mac. I suppose you could come to coffee with us."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Asked Reed patting me on the back.  
"Her and I lost contact, I don't know."  
"It's cool Mac I got like a little sister now," he said laughing putting his arm on my shoulder.  
"Maybe now are coffee breaks will be more then once a month," said Mac smiling.  
"How old are you anyways Flyte?" Reed asked.  
"16, you?"  
"24."  
They ordered coffee, I a diet coke, and sat in a booth, Mac next to me and Reed across from us.  
"What do you do?" I asked Reed.  
"I'm a journalist, have a blog. Things are going well with that."  
"What college did you go to?"  
"Chelsea University, are you thinking about college?"  
"Yeah, NYU hopefully."  
"Oh what do you want to major in?"  
"Biochem. I wanna be apart of the crime lab." Mac smiled.  
We had small talk, school, work, Macs newest case, TV, and more. I like Reed. It'll be nice to have someone like an older brother. I just am afraid for what will come when he finds out more about me, my past, and my fucked up self. I'm going to end up hurting him, because I can't live without hurting myself.

*again, sorry for small typos, all my fanfic is written on my phone . lol. This one was kinda short but more is coming! R&R? Plz be nice*


	5. Poptart

Fat. Fat. Fat. That's all I hear, that three letter word that replays in my head over and over again. When I feel hunger pains, the word fat plays in my brain, reminding me not to eat. All I can hear is my own self hate, and awkward quotes from the internet. "I didn't eat for three days so I could be lovely."  
"A minute on your hips, forever on your lips."  
When I smell food I squeeze the fat, digging my nails in enough to make me bleed. When I was a kid, I carved open my stomach, blood was everywhere, but I didn't care. I stuck a vacuum hose inside my body and prayed for all the fat to be sucked out. That was the first time I was admitted to the psych ward; I was 8.  
But today I didn't need to recite the words and quotes religiously - someone decided to do it for me. I had been sitting in the lunch room reading a book, sipping my diet coke, when a boy approached me.  
"Why aren't you eating?" He asked. It's not like I've been asked that before.  
"I'm not hungry," I said flipping the page in my book.  
"I think your trying to lose weight. But don't worry you could lose a few pounds, it must suck coming to school looking like a pregnant cow."  
I had stared at him, a death look placed on my face. "Don't ever call a girl fat," I whispered. "That causes eating disorders."  
I could fight all day for people I don't even know, but I could never fight for myself. I had gotten up, and went to class, without speaking another word for the rest of the day.  
Mac isn't here today so I'm staying with Flack tonight. This is good for my selfish starvation reasons, but also because I love being around Flack. The only downside I could really think of is not getting any work done, which can also be seen as an upside. I was on the train from the lab to the library. Flack told me he'd be home around 7, so I figured I should go to the library and get some work done.

I stood outside Flacks door, waiting for him. He should be here any minute now. "Hey," he said coming down the hall. "Hi, thanks for letting me stay with you."  
"No problem," he said unlocking the door. "We'll have fun." I walked into a nice one bedroom place. Upon entering, you immediately find the living room, along with a small hall closet. He had a nice leather couch, and a large flat screen tv. He had a small book shelf filled with comic books and magazines. "You can put your stuff in the living room. I'm going to order dinner. Turn on the TV to what you want, I think I got Netflix hooked up."  
"Thanks," I said setting my stuff down. I didn't want to seem rude by turning the TV on.  
"You want Chinese or Italian?" He asked.  
"I'm not hungry, I had something on the way here," I said checking my phone to avoid seeing him look at me. "Well your going to have to eat something," he declared.  
"I'll order for me, and if you find something you want around the kitchen, take it. You just need to eat something."  
I knew flack wasn't trying to hurt me, but can't he see that I don't need to eat? All the fat on my body, it could feed all starving kids in the world and still have some left over. Can't he see that not seeing my bones kills me? Flack, he's just being a good friend to Mac and I, but I wish all of them saw it from my point of you. I wish they understood what eating did to me.  
After flack finished ordering, he sat next to me on the couch. "What do you like to watch?" He asked.  
"You know the tv show 21 Jumpstreet with Johnny Depp? Not the movie, but the show from the 80's?"  
"Of course how do you know about that?"  
I shrugged. "I think I got the DVD's" he said getting up and fishing around in the drawers the TV stood on. "I got season 3," he said pulling it out.  
"Oh! That's the one where Booker comes in!" Flack smiled and put it into the DVD player. Sometimes I get too emotionally attached to a show, or fandom. I'm what is known as a Fangirl. And hiding my feels infront of Flack was especially difficult.  
"Who do you ship?" I asked before realising what I just said. Oops.  
"Ship?"  
"Yeah, like who do you want to get together?"  
"Eh probably Judy and Ioki. Why? Who do you want to get together?"  
I blushed a little, embarrassed. "Hanson and Booker," I said. Don smiled. "We had a Vic once that was into all this stuff, err, what's it called again?"  
"Fandoms."  
"Yeah she wouldn't shut up and kept saying that she was a Fangirl. She wanted two guys to get together, said it was called Yaoi."  
I was beyond shocked at the fact Flack just said Yaoi. My jaw literally dropped. "I'd expect this from Adam, but you?"  
"Adam explained it to me," he said smiling. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, which must have been the food. Flack jumped up and ran to the door with some cash. He went into the kitchen to grab silverware when he yelled, "I got some crackers you could snack on."  
I was silent. I didn't want to be rude but accepting food was rude, but not accepting food was rude too. I sighed bouncing my leg up and down. "Flyte come here," said Don. I got up and walked into the kitchen. He had open cabinets with loads of food. I mine as well just eat straight fat, that's what this stuff was.  
"You can have anything you want. This is every teenagers dream."  
I shook my head, "not mine."  
Flack sighed. "I don't know much about your relationship with food, and how it works inside your head. But can I tell you what Mac told me?" I nodded.  
"Take a seat at the island." I did as told.  
"Mac told me you view food as an enemy. That when you eat you feel extremely guilty. He said you have an excessive fear of weight gain, so you starve yourself. I didn't get it, but he told me I wouldn't be able to understand, and that he couldn't even understand. He said that's why he basically recited the DSM IV. He said sometimes you go on eating binges but you make yourself throw up. That's what everything tells us, but those are just symptoms. Flyte, I want to understand, can you help me?"  
I looked at him. Should I poor everything out? Or should I keep all my secrets in? I need to talk to someone, and for some reason Flack seemed like the right person.  
"When I was a kid," I whispered, "I had nothing. My parents were divorced, my mum an abusive druggie and prostitute, while my dad gave up on me quickly. I had control over nothing with my mom and how she'd hurt me. My dad didn't used to be obsessed with calories, but that started when he met my step mum. I was bounced back and forth between my dad and my bio mum. Between starving because we were out of food stamps, and starving because I was out of calories. I could throw you some psychobabble bull shit about PTSD but it won't help. Everyday is a fight to stay alive. To eat or not to eat, that is the question. And the answer is generally not. First it started with cutting, then with starving, and now a mixture of both. Nothing was the way it needed to be while growing up, so now I take it upon me to make myself perfect. And to me perfection equals bones, not just bones though. Perfect handwriting, my room perfectly clean, perfect grades. And things went from bad to worse. This uh, this guy. I met him at a convention." I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I thought he was my friend." I felt a tear come from my eye. Should I stop? Or continue? "He said he was 16, when I was 14. I'm so ashamed because I liked him, I liked him a lot. One day I was alone at the mall, and none if my friends could come. So I called him. By now I knew his real age, 21, but I figured he's still the same person he said he was. God, I sound like every girl now. He came to the mall, and ran into one of his friends. A therapist told me he called the friend to make me feel more comfortable. We walked around for a bit, then his friend had to catch the train. So then it was just him and I. Daniel, is his name. Daniel Castro." I wiped my eyes.  
"He took me to his car to 'talk'" I whispered my voice cracking and becoming hoarse. "And well, you see people like me everyday, you know what happened. I told him no and he said he didn't care. He said it was my fault for seducing him. And that I had sexy curves. Since those two words left his lips, my recovery opportunity went from slim to none. Now, every time I try to eat those words slither out of his mouth into my head, infesting the small innocence I had left, until it was gone. I'm sorry, I kinda went on a rant."  
"Don't apologise. Thank you for telling me. Do the police know?"  
"The Atlanta PD do, they dropped the case though. Not enough evidence."  
Flack sighed and patted me on my shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."  
I've heard that phrase a million times, but for some reason, this time I believed it.  
"Flyte, nibble on something, I just need to tell Mac I saw you eat something." I sighed.  
"I promise, your weight is just a number, you're not fat. Food keeps you running. Without food you'll die." He went and pulled out a bunch of foods. Crackers, brownies, cookies, chips, fruits and vegetables. I declined everything, and I felt so selfish doing so.  
Finally flack pulled out a box of pop tarts. "These, my friend, are irresistible. We'll split it, I get one you the other." He said opening the package setting it infront of me. He took his piece and started munching on it. I sighed breaking mine in half, then another half, then another, leaving me with a half a poptart, and another half in 4 pieces. I brought the food to my lips, and I paused. I was only at 200 calories today, did I really want to ruin it over a measly poptart? I looked at flack. He nodded for me to go on, and when he did instead of hearing the word fat scream into my head, I heard flack telling me that it's not my fault.

"Flack," said Mac running up to catch the younger man outside the 12th precinct. "How did the night go with you and Flyte?"  
"Poptart and I? Let me tell you we're going to be real good friends."  
"Poptart?" Asked Mac.  
"New nickname, I'll tell you why later. There's a new Jane Doe in some motel, looks like a meth lab. On scene says TOD was around midnight and 2."  
"I'm on my way. Text me the address." Mac said sighing picking up his phone. "Oh and Flack," he said turning to him. Flack gave him a welcoming smile. "Thank you."  
He continued to smile, "you're welcome."


	6. Video game wonderland

Adam had the day off, so he invited Reed and I to his apartment to have a gaming fest. I knocked on the door which was eagerly answered by Reed. He had a soda in his hand, and chip residue on his face. "Hey, glad you could come! What did you bring?"  
"Old school," I said kicking my shoes off as the door shut.  
"Flyte what up." He said in a high pitched voice. I smiled. There was food every where, nachos, cookies, chips, pizza. I dug my nails into my hand. No. No. No. I set down my stuff and opened my bag.  
"I have Nintendo 64 and a shit load of games. I have a dream cast, and brought all my yugioh cards."  
"Awesome, we've been killing each other at call of duty."  
I smiled deviously, "ya'll are going down!"  
"Ya'll," said Adam. "You been spending your time with Lindsay?"  
"I lived in Atlanta, we say y'all, son, bruh, vato, ese, you name it." I sat down and picked up a third controller.  
"Stop dont shoot!"  
"Where are you?"  
"Fuck I need more ammo."  
"God damn it you killed me."  
"You shall not pass!"  
"Stop quoting lord of the rings, this is call of duty, and I'm your bogart."  
"But you just quoted...-"  
"Nope haha your almost gone."  
"Arggh!"  
"Fuck!"  
"Did you rig this?"  
"I win"

"What happened to your hand?" I asked Adam. There was a big burn running from his palm down his wrist. It's was old. It didn't look like it was self harm. Adams face was straight. Reed intertwined his hand with Adams, and he didn't pull away. "Sorry," I whispered.  
"Don't be. My dad wasn't the nicest man. He hurt me a lot. This time I... Fucked up his tea."  
"So he threw it at you." I completed. Adam nodded. I could see the pain Adam felt and it completely resonated with mine. Adam was squeezing Reeds hand harder than before. I don't think they realised I notice, and I didn't want to be rude and say something.  
"How about another round?"  
Adam smiled.

Around 2 am we all fell asleep, all but me. I made it seem like I was asleep, and I tried to sleep, I even took twice the amount of sleeping pills I'm supposed to. But I guess tonight is just another one of those nights.  
I looked up from the couch making my way to the bathroom. I went down a small hallway where the bathroom was, which was across from Adams room. The door was cracked. I peeked in my head, I know it's none of my business, but I had my suspicions, and I guess curiosity did kill the cat. I saw Reed holding Adam protectively. Adam rested his head on the pillow, Reed resting his head on Adams arm. Their arms were intertwined.  
I didn't think Reed or Adam were gay, or together. And maybe I was the only one who knew. I wasn't going to say anything, if it's a secret, it's not mine to tell. When I looked at them I felt an aching pain in my heart. I wanted that kind of love. I know that I'm loved by every one at the lab, but it's not the same kind of love. That sounds so selfish. Why can't I appreciate that at least I am loved? Why do I have to be such a cunt?  
I just want someone to hold me like that. Someone to hold my hand when I'm scared, someone I can play video games with. Someone that will kiss me softly and play with my hair. I just want to be loved. But how does one love someone at my weight? Who could love someone as fat as me? I'm 94 pounds away from 0- away from being loved, perfect.

It was morning and I had finally fallen asleep around 4. I woke up to chuckling and shhhh's, along with banging pots and pans. I opened my eyes slightly and saw Adam wrapped around Reed as he tossed something into a pan. I sat up and smiled looking at them. I don't think they noticed I was awake and I didn't want to frighten them. I made a long obvious yawn while stretching my arms. I looked over at them. "Morning," I said.  
"Hey," said Adam laughing.  
"Uhh... Ya'll making some breakfast?" I asked.  
"Ya, scrambled or over easy?" Asked Reed.  
"Ergg... I don't eat eggs. I'll grab something on the way to school."  
"You sure?" Asked Adam.  
"Yeah," I said smiling. "Starbucks is on the way."  
"Hey, Flyte, listen. " said Adam coming over to me. "Now that you know, do you mind keeping it a secret? We don't know when we'll tell everyone." I nodded. "Of course, no worries. Just a question, why'd you let me know?"  
"Well, you are practically Reeds younger sister. And we figured you understand," he said smiling. I smiled back.  
It felt nice to be trusted with such a big secret.


End file.
